Memories of Us
by shluluw62
Summary: This is my first romance. Please give me feedback and critism. Takes place where HBP left off. Draco is running from the death eaters. Somehow he makes his way to Hermione's house. There he fakes amnesia so Hermione will take pity on him and keep him
1. Prologue

1Memories of Us

Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in this story. I wish I owned Draco Malfoy, but unfortunately I don't.

All he could do was run. After what he had done–or come extremely close to doing–was setting yourself up to die in most cultures. He had nearly killed the only man who had ever believed there was any good left in him to save. Even though he couldn't bring himself to perform the most unforgivable of the three unforgivable curses, someone else had. Since the headmaster, the man responsible, and himself were the only ones in the room when it happened, it was his word against another. And his word wasn't worth much to anyone anymore. So he ran.

He didn't know where to run or even how far he would have to run, but he knew he had to nonetheless. He ran for miles, changing direction every so often. He nearly collapsed twice, the breath in his lungs feeling like heavy weights, before he came upon a small cottage, smoke billowing out of the brick chimney. A woman was inside, though he had no clue who it was. He trudged through the rain and the mud that rain had caused, making his way to the porch.

Falling to his knees on the welcome mat on the front porch, he knocked as hard as he could on the wooden door in front of him. The door opened, revealing the one person he least expected to see. Looking into her eyes, he heard her let out a sudden gasp, then felt himself being pulled quickly into the house.

The girl in front of him eased him onto the sofa in front of the fireplace, grabbing a blanket off the backrest. "What the hell?" Before he was able to answer her, however, he felt himself give into the fatigue that racked his body. Within seconds, his mind was engulfed in darkness.


	2. Disorientation

1Chapter One

Hermione Granger sat in her brown leather beanbag chair watching her enemy sleep away on the couch. Why had she let him in? Why hadn't she left him outside in the rain where he belonged?

She had let him in without thinking, without even realizing who he was. Perhaps that was her Healer instinct to help anybody in need, despite how much you dislike them. Since she was studying to become a Healer, she had done the only thing she could think of: She had bandaged the wounds on his chest, head, and arms, not daring to remove his pants. She glared over the top of the romance novel she held in her grasp as Draco turned on the sofa.

Laying there like that, he almost seemed...human. Hermione let her gaze wander over Draco's body. She had had to cut away his shirt, leaving a well-toned chest and tight, touch-me abs exposed. His long blonde hair fell over his sleeping face–and, oh, what a face!–making him look almost angelic. _Angelic. Ha! He is no angel_, she thought to herself.

Hermione knew what he had done two nights ago. Was he here to kill her as well? He had taken the most beloved and respected man she had ever known away from her forever, and she held a feeling of hatred so deep, she could think of nothing else. But if she was going to kill him, she wanted him conscious enough to know what she was doing.

Checking once more that Draco was indeed still alive, Hermione went upstairs and fell asleep, but only after locking her bedroom door with three different spells.

It was another three days of tossing and turning and falling in and out of consciousness before Hermione saw Draco open his eyes. She watched him lay there on the couch as he took in his surroundings. Coming out of the kitchen, she stopped dead in front of him on the sofa and crossed her arms over her chest.

"You'd better have a pretty damn good excuse as to why you're here, Malfoy," she said, tapping her foot on the oak floor. "Well? I'm waiting for an answer."

"Is that my name? 'Malfoy'? That's a strange name, don't you think?" He looked at Hermione with such a strange look in his eye.

"What do you mean? Do you not know who you are?" Now she was growing impatient with him.

"No. I know nothing before now. Please tell me you know who I am." Draco continued to stare at her, looking genuinely confused.

Groaning, Hermione joined Draco on the couch. Looking at him, she replied,"Your name is Draco Malfoy. I don't know your middle name, or if you even have one, seeing as we were never that close to one another. You just finished your sixth year at Hogwarts. Hogwarts is a school for special students, students who retain certain abilities."

"What kind of abilities? And why weren't we ever close? You're beautiful. Do you know that?" This made Hermione blush as no one had ever told her she was beautiful before. Pretty, yes. That she looked good, yes. But never that she was beautiful.

"Abilities such as magic. Real magic. You're a wizard, and there were circumstances that never allowed us to get close. You and your family thought you were better than people like me. You came from a long line of pureblooded wizards, and I came from mortal parents, making me a muggleborn, or in your eyes, a mudblood. A mudblood is someone of dirty blood." Hermione forced herself not to cry. Perhaps, just perhaps, if Malfoy was telling the truth, and he really did have amnesia like he claimed, she could find out if there was any ounce of goodness left in him to rescue.

"Bloodlines shouldn't matter. A mixed breed of dog isn't any less than a purebred dog. Maybe in a breeders eyes, but in the eyes of an average, kind person, it shouldn't." Hermione felt Draco lay a hand on her arm as one single tear slipped passed her no-tear barrier and rolled down her cheek.

"I need to run into town. I'll see about getting something to help restore your memory. And some clothes."

With that, Hermione rose from the sofa and left the house, grabbing her purse and wand on her way out the door. Once outside, Hermione apparated to Diagon Alley where she could bury herself in a butterbeer.


	3. Common Ground

Memories of Us

Chapter Two

Draco dropped his head into his hands and sighed. He had just unleashed the biggest can of worms in his life so far. It was more of a spur-of-the-moment decision than anything else. Saving his own butt was the only thing on his mind right now. Although now he would have to pretend to be some magical saint, otherwise Hermione would know something was up.

Getting up off the couch, Draco wandered around the house, discovering many new things. There was one item he took an instant liking to. It was small and square, and you put something in it–he wasn't sure what–pushed a small lever downwards and a couple of minutes later, the wires inside popped back up. He didn't want to test putting anything in it and risk it exploding on him.

Eventually he found the bathroom, and he thanked his lucky stars that there wasn't anything foreign in there. He showered and cleaned himself up, then headed back out to the kitchen where he decided to make himself a bowl of cereal.

Sitting in a chair at the table, he picked up a magazine that was next to a pile napkins. He was shocked at what was in this months' edition of _Cosmopolitan_; articles like "30 Ways to Keep Your Guy Entertained," "What Kind of Sexy Underwear is Right for You," and his favorite "5 Things to Use When the Batteries In Your Vibrator Run Out." Placing the magazine back where it had come from, Draco finished off his cereal, and went back into the living room where he was bound and determined to figure out this thing called a television.

"Piece of crap!" he yelled, wanting so badly to kick the television set. "If only I could remember what my Muggles Studies professor had said about these things." Fiddling with the buttons on the T.V. itself was getting him nowhere, so he grabbed the plastic remote and began pushing buttons on it. "Come on. Help me out here...Aha!" He mentally patted himself on the back when the screen turned on. All he had to do now was figure out how to turn the channel.

Guessing at the button labeled 'Ch.' button, he flipped through the 300 or so channels that the satellite offered. Finding one of the game show channels, he sat back and enjoyed his time to himself.

Hermione returned to her cottage, and to her dismay, back to the company of Draco Malfoy within a couple hours, having bought her new school books at Flourish and Blotts and a few new books for pleasure reading at the bookstore in London.

She walked in to find Draco on the couch watching _Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?_ She couldn't help but laugh when she heard him scream at the television.

"No! You idiot! The answer is B! Why do you need to ask the bloody audience for something that simple!" He punched the cushion next to him. "I hate retarded people."

"I thought you said you didn't remember anything?" Hermione asked, putting her hands on her hips. "How do you know the answer is B?"

"Umm...some of my memory is coming back. Common sense things, and I am remembering a bit about school. Not much of the people, but of what I've learned." Hermione plopped into the beanbag chair. "I did remember a little about you, too."

She didn't know why, but this made Hermione blush. "Like what?"

"You being an over-acheiver. Why is that? Or do you not trust me enough to tell? Because I remember the hostility between you and I." Draco leaned forward on the couch and rested his elbows on his knees. Hermione stood and began to pace the floor. Running a hand through her messy brown hair, she sighed, then faced Draco.

"No; I'll tell you. It was more to please my parents than myself. I would much rather slack off once in awhile, but you don't know my parents. They were always pushing me, even before I started at Hogwarts. They mean well."

"Is that why you're already studying to be Healer? To please your parents?" He looked at her as she continued to pace, the subject at hand clearly bothering her.

"Old habits die hard. I can blame myself for that one. I figured if I volunteered a bit, then when I actually went into training, I wouldn't have to train for as long."

"Guess that's something we have in common, you and I–wanting to please our parents." She looked at the sky light in the middle of the living room ceiling just as little drops of rain began to fall.

"What do you mean 'something we have in common'? Why would you have to please your parents? You were what they worshiped; I saw it every time you and they were in public together."

"That's _why_ they worshiped me: because I did everything I was told and made them proud. You shouldn't have to give your own parents a reason to be proud of you. They should be proud just to even have a kid. I know it took my parents years of fertility potions before they had me."

"Mine, too. It's funny..." Hermione stopped and starred at a spot on the floor.

"What is?" Draco got up and stood in front of Hermione.

"You and I hate each other, yet our lives are so similar. We actually understand what each other feels. I wish we could have discovered this during year one." She turned away from him and looked out the window, watching the rain fall harder. "Maybe we could have brought you over to our side. Maybe Dumbledore would still be here."

"Dumbledore has had this coming since the day he threatened Voldemort. He–" Draco caught himself before he went too far. Calming himself down, he continued. "I just remember being told that Voldemort has had his eye on Dumbledore for a long time."

"That is a topic for another day. I think I'll turn in." She turned and headed towards the stairs.

Confused, Draco replied, "But it's only three o'clock..." Stopping, she looked at him.

"I just need some alone time right now."

He watched her walk upstairs, heard a door shut, and water run. Assuming she was in the tub, he turned his attention back to the television. _Millionaire_ was over; now it was time for _Jeopardy_.

Here's a longer chapter for you all! Hope you like it, and I'm in the process of making chapter three. It should be done in a couple days.


	4. Light Amongst the Darkness

1Here it is! Chapter 3! Yay! Thanks to everyone who has commented so far. I hope you like this new chapter.

Memories of Us

Chapter Three

Hermione sank herself into the hot, soothing water that filled her porcelain claw-foot tub. There was nothing like a bath to refresh your mind when it's in overdrive. And Malfoy in her house, acting all nice was definitely sending her mind into overdrive. Her head was filled with a thousand different thoughts, all racing through her mind at the same time.

Had there always been hope that Malfoy could have been brought to the good side? Was there any of that hope still left? Bolting up in the tub, one thought occurred to her: maybe there _was_ something left to save. Could she be the one to do it? Could she save him? Leaning back against the side of the tub once again, Hermione sighed.

She would do it. If she had to die in the process, she would try and bring Malfoy over to their side. She didn't know how, but she knew she would try.

Grabbing her razor off the counter next to her, Hermione began to shave her legs. Things with Draco were beginning to get strange. It was almost as if he were _trying_ not to remember anything. She began to formulate a plan to get him to confess. And if he didn't confess with his mouth, then maybe his body language would give it away,

Her legs shaved, she rose from the tub and pulled the plug. It was only six o'clock by the time Hermione had dressed and fixed her hair.

Coming to the bottom of the stairs, she noticed Draco was still in a trance in front of the television. "Hey, Malfoy. How about getting something to eat? I know this great little place I think you might like in muggle London."

Looking up from the T.V., Draco swallowed, hard. Hermione was in a tight denim miniskirt, something he never thought she would even think of owning. She also wore a green shirt that was cut low, revealing quite a bit of her...assets. _Where has this Hermione been all throughout school?_ he thought. _She's actually attractive without the books and librarian knowhow._

Shaking his head, Draco told himself to stop thinking about her as anything more than a way to stay hidden.

"Uh, yeah. Sure. Why not?" He rose from the couch, turned of the tube.

"Great. There's something I want to discuss with you when we get there." Grabbing a small purse she had placed on the counter a few minutes prior, they headed out the door. "Do you remember how to apparate?"

"Yes. I think so." With that he disappeared, only to pop up two seconds later not even ten feet from where he left. "Yes. I definitely remember."

"Okay. Let's apparate to London then."

Draco was amazed by everything as he and Hermione wandered into this place called the Hard Rock Café. Never before had he seen anything like it. They were seated fairly quickly and their orders taken soon after.

"I was wondering if you would want to help the Order in any way?" She sipped at her drink and looked at him as he swallowed the bite in his mouth.

"What's the Order?" Draco had nearly choked on the food in his mouth when she had asked him that question. "Is it like some sort of cult?"

"A cult? No. We're a group dedicated to the downfall of Voldemort. We have people in our group you would never imagine were even against Voldemort in the first place."

"Oh..." Hermione could tell he was growing tenser with each passing second. "I guess I could help."

"That's great. Now that I know that you're willing to help, there's just one more question I need answered," she said, leaning over the table a bit and giving him a somewhat flirtatious smile. If her intuition was correct, then she would know

Draco leaned in as well, giving her a smile of his own, replied, "What?"

"Why are you pretending that you have amnesia?" She tilted her head to one side, still smiling and his mouth fell open.

Draco couldn't believe she had called his bluff. He had no idea what to say in response to her. All he could do was sit back and run his hands through his hair a couple times. Sighing, he finally came clean.

"I never wanted to complete the mission I was given. Dumbledore was the only one who ever believed I had any good in me. Even when I gave him during school, he would always tell me, 'I know you can do better; I expect you to do better.' He would still be alive if my mother hadn't bonded Snape and I.

"Of course, Snape had to go through with it, or both of us would have been killed for not completing it. Dumbledore knew full and well of our bond. He chose to let Snape do it. Now the Death Eaters are after me. I came upon your house not knowing you lived there. When I realized it was you, I had to play dumb. I didn't know if you let me in otherwise."

Hermione sat silent for a long time, pondering what to say back. She couldn't believe the words that had just come out of his mouth. Biting her lip, she said, "You know, maybe you should have had a little more in me. We're enemies, granted, but who's to say I wouldn't have let you in?" He opened his mouth to argue, but she cut him off. "I probably wouldn't have believed you never wanted to kill Dumbledore, but if you had told me the Death Eaters were after you, maybe I would have let you in."

"I'm sorry, but who's to say you would have let me in?"

"Guess we'll never know now...for now you have my permission to stay there as long as you answer me one thing."

"Fine. Ask away."

"Are you actually willing to help the Order destroy Voldemort once and for all?"

Draco stared at her, contemplating her question. Would he sacrifice everything he had, give up everything he knew? Was there really a chance he could help them after what he tried to do? Without another thought, he answered, "Yes."


	5. The Affects of a Blue Heart

Here it is! Chapter four! I know it's been awhile, but I just started school, so I've been busy. The next one will be hot and steamy…just so you're warned:)

1Memories of Us

Chapter Four

Hermione and Draco ate their food in almost complete silence. Save for a few compliments towards the food. Hermione had chosen to eat the Hard Rock Cafe's 'Homemade Nachos', and Draco had chosen their famous 'ten-ounce burger.' Halfway through their meal, Draco had a question of his own he couldn't hold in anymore.

"So why are you alone in a house so far from the rest of the world?" He looked at Hermione, waiting for her response.

"My grandparents are vacationing in Spain for the summer, and I got roped into house sitting." She popped the last of her nachos into her mouth.

"How about we go somewhere else after this?" Draco asked, finishing off his drink. He could tell she was up to something, and he was determined to find out what it was, even if that meant spending all night _on the town_.

"Sure. Did you have somewhere in particular in mind?" She took one last sip of her drink, her mouth lingering on the straw.

"Perhaps. Come on." They rose from the table, and Hermione tossed some money and a tip on the table. _Knowing the types of places Malfoy likes to hang out at, _Hermione thought to herself, _I had better not let my guard down; there's no telling what he has up his sleeve_.

Within ten minutes, however, Draco and Hermione stood in front of what seemed to be a very normal, very _muggle_ nightclub. Glancing at the name of the establishment in front of which they stood, Hermione laughed.

"Club Mystique? What's so mysterious about it, Malfoy?" she asked, turning to face him.

"You'll see, Granger. Let's go; couples get in free tonight." Placing a hand on Hermione's back, Draco nudged her forward.

Hermione stiffened as she felt Draco's hand on the small of her back. A jolt of something shot up her spine, something she had never felt before. "Since when are we a couple? We hate each other, remember?"

"We're officially a couple for as long as it takes us to get inside. Sound good?"

"Good enough I guess."

Draco couldn't pull his hand off her back if it killed him.. He had felt something tingle up his arm when he placed it there, and now it was as his hand had mind of its own. And that mind wanted to touch other places. Trail his fingers along her jaw, up and down her arms...

But he pulled his hand away nonetheless as soon as they were inside. He shouldn't be feeling this way about her. He hated her for Pete's sake! Didn't he?

Draco watched as Hermione made her way over to the bar. Following her, he jumped up on the stool next to her.

Hermione watched Draco out of the corner of her eye. She was still feeling the sudden cold where his hand had been on her back. Oh, how she wished his hand were still there and other places, too.

But nothing could come between them. They were sworn enemies; they were destined to hate each other for the rest of their lives. Right?

"Max! Two Blue Hearts down here!" Draco yelled, obviously knowing the man behind the bar quite well. As if he had read her mind, Draco turned to Hermione and said, "I come here all the time. Max and I are on a first name basis."

Hermione could only nod her head. Her throat was dry for some reason, and she knew that if she said anything before she took a drink she would sound like she had sucked the helium out of a balloon. 'Max', as Draco had called him, filled two glasses with a bluish liquid and slid them in front of Hermione and Draco.

Picking up the glass, Hermione took a quick sip, the cool, milkshake-like liquid sliding down her throat. She finished off the rest of the drink just as Draco was standing up to dance.

"I'm going out on the dance floor. See you out there." With that, he took off through the crowd and began dancing with a rather shapely blonde woman. Hermione began to feel something strange, something she didn't remember ever feeling. She watched as Draco and the blonde got very close on the floor. Her face grew hot when the two began grinding.

She couldn't watch it any longer. Getting up off the stool, Hermione made her way onto the floor and found a dance partner of her own.

Draco was enjoying himself quite well. The blonde he had been dancing with was named Bambi and was flirting way too much. But he forced himself to sit at the table with her nonetheless.

Draco watched as Hermione and some brown-haired drunk practically made out on the dance floor. He ground his teeth together at the thought of the man kissing Hermione. He knew why. He had done it to himself. The Blue Hearts he had ordered for Hermione and himself were beginning to take effect. He could tell not only because his own emotions were flaring but also because Hermione kept stealing glances at him.

That was what the drink was supposed to do; it let any subconscious feelings the drinker had take over the others.

Once again, Hermione tried to steal a look at him, only this time Draco managed to lock her gaze with his. She stopped moving and just stared, not hiding the fact that she _was_ staring at him.

Before Draco could stop himself, he was standing directly in front of Hermione, one arm wrapping itself around her waist, pulling her closer to him. The contact made him realize that he wanted to hold her like this since he first awoke on her sofa…if not before that.


End file.
